


Are You In?

by meaningful_magical



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meaningful_magical/pseuds/meaningful_magical
Summary: Lauren Watson is given an offer. Will she refuse? (VERY SLIGHT Michael/OC)





	1. Chapter 1

My past wasn't pretty. I ran with criminals, did almost everything in the book. I had swift feet and steady hands, could ace a shot in a heartbeat, but I preferred to just stick to what I was really good at: stealing. I could take a man's watch off without him noticing if I wanted to, and that’s how I stayed under the radar.

I swore I would stay away from that life when I got out of the last crew in Liberty City. I didn't want to get into trouble, but it always seemed to find me, and I knew when it was coming.

So, I decided to purchase a gun. I knew the trade and talked the salesman down from 4K to 2K, and left Ammunation with a sleek, black pistol tucked into the back of my pants.

~~~

I exit the shop and swept my eyes over the parking lot. I shook my hair back out of my face and pulled my helmet on as I neared my bike. It hummed to life, and I headed back on the road. I spotted a dark blur in my left mirror. I focused on the mirror briefly but didn't spot anything out of the ordinary. I continued on my way, weaving through the streets and enjoying the ride until I spotted yet another blur. I switched between focusing on the street before me and my mirrors, and shortly thereafter not one, but two vehicles had pulled up on me and were following me. One appeared to be an Adder and the other was a Zentorno. Both very high class and luxurious vehicles.

I slowed to a stop at the red light and watched curiously as they slowed to a crawl far behind me. Both vehicles lights went dark before approaching further. When the light changed, I revved the engine, leaning forward and took off. I knew the city by heart and could take the time to pay attention to my pursuers while maneuvering the streets. The Adder had disappeared and the Zentorno was gaining on me quicker than I had anticipated; it was upgraded and ran magnificently. 

I had turned right, and then right again, left, right. The Zentorno followed. I sped over an overpass, and as I exited onto the main road, I looked to my left to find the dark, almost brown Adder keeping up with me. The windows were tinted; I had no idea who was driving, but they were skilled. As was the Zentorno’s driver, as far as I could tell. I peered over my shoulder and the Adder was nowhere to be found. 

Shit.

The Zentorno's engine growled and the car closed the distance between us, causing me to swerve slightly to the left so that they didn't wreck me. I pushed my bike to full speed and raced the supercar down the long road. We took turns leading for a few seconds, though it felt like forever before the car once again shifted closer.

I took a hard left, through a tight alley that the cars couldn't follow me through, crossed over the bridge that led to Lester's warehouse and pulled a hairpin turn and headed towards the auto shop below the overpass. I braced myself and bunny hopped over the curb, flicking my lights on as I landed on the train tracks that led into a tunnel. I had just enough time to peer over my shoulder to see the two vehicles circling the parking lot once, twice, and then peeling out. 

I looked ahead and cautiously sped through the tunnel. I skidded to a crawl as I neared the exit, checking my surroundings. When I figured I was clear I cut my lights and took to the street, heading home.

Did I mention I had a knack for finding trouble?


	2. Chapter 2

A few weeks had passed, and I had nearly forgotten the encounter. Weirder things have happened since then, I suppose. Like when I went backpacking at Mount Chilliad and two masked figures approached me and wordlessly lit flares, before throwing a flash bang. 

I watched as the flash bang bounced off of a tree and I quickly stepped off of the trail and behind a tree. The flashbang went off, and I heard two men yelling, quite comically. I peeked around to watch the two figures; one was squawking at the top of his lungs, and the other was blindly throwing punches and swearing like a sailor. I managed to just walk away from that one. People were so dumb.

“Ren, you good?” Alex asked as she passed behind me, bringing me back from my thoughts. “You seem out of it.”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.” I responded, stealing a glance at the three obnoxiously loud men in the back left corner of the bar. They had progressively been getting louder as the hours went by, and something just felt off. I had really been running on autopilot all night, faces and drink orders blurred; I couldn’t tell you who ordered what or how long they had been sitting at the bar or at a table. And everything was just so busy and loud.

She scoffed and muttered ‘when are you not?’ under her breath, thinking I didn’t hear. I just rolled my eyes and wiped down the counter while she continued serving patrons.

I looked up into the face of a man, face littered with scars. He wore a leather jacket with a faded but completely recognizable Lost MC logo. 

I smiled politely and wiped my hands off with a towel, “What can I get for you?”

“A Blow Job.” He grinned, tossing some bills on the counter. 

I collected the cash, rolled my eyes and pulled out a shot glass, and quickly poured the shot, topping it with whipped cream before sliding it over to him. The bastard had the audacity to not even drink the bloody thing.

“Listen, baby, a pretty thing like you has no right working here.” He said with an absolutely revolting smirk.

I smiled curtly, “Well, you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“And I’m thinking I’ve gotta do you.” He said smugly, thinking he had just said the most charming thing ever.

“Alright, douchebag, order a drink or fuck off,” I said, as I walked down the bar a little way, throwing a pleading glance at Chris. Unfortunately, he was oblivious to my silent pleas and took off to bring drinks to a table on the floor.

I noticed a table with a pitcher raised and quickly hurried off to collect it and wait on the guys. They wanted a refill so I retrieved it and made my way back to the counter, and slid the pitcher to Alex, “Guinness.”

A low whistle came from behind me and I quickly spun around and came face to face with the Lost MC biker. He leaned forward as he did so, placing one hand on my side, his thumb resting right below my left breast, and his right hand was on the bar, trapping me. He pressed his fingers into my side and I scowled as he attempted a charming smile and leaned forward, pushing towards me as he looked me up and down, “Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

I pulled my leg up and pulled my switchblade out of my boot, ready to use it if needed, and stood my ground as I warned: “Listen, asshole, you need to leave.”

“I don’t need to go anywhere, bitch.” He slammed his left hand on the bar, making empty bottles and glasses clink. I pressed the cold blade slightly into his chest between his third and fourth rib and narrowed my eyes; seemingly everyone else was busy with something, we were pretty overwhelmed tonight. 

When he saw I wasn’t going to budge he grinned, completely oblivious to the blade. I pressed it ever so slightly into his skin, watched as a trail of blood leaked from his chest, and he hissed with pain. “Fucking goddamn tease! You're just a fucking whore and-” He didn’t even get the entire sentence out before there was a muted thud, followed by a nearly inaudible whimper. 

I looked down to find a large blade embedded into the back of his hand, pinning it to the counter. He opened his mouth to speak and let out a gasp of air as the blade was twisted. I took it as a chance to hop onto the counter and escape. As I moved, his right hand came up to grab my arm and he pulled it roughly, so I reared my leg back and I kicked him square in the face, driving my heel into his nose. Along with him yelling ‘FUCK', I heard a laugh. I dropped behind the bar so I was at a safe distance and looked at the guy to the left of the pervert and took a step back due to the pure intensity of his face; I had never seen someone so angry.

In my bar sat Michael fucking Jones. He had dark, curly hair, partially shrouded by a black beanie, and dark brown eyes that just burned with fire. I couldn't pull my eyes away, even as he scowled. He leaned towards the biker and his words were so low I couldn’t make out what he said. 

The biker turned his face and spit a mixture of blood and saliva at the brunet, who pulled back and wiped his face slowly before popping his neck. He quickly kicked the biker’s legs out from underneath him, and he hung, only held up by the knife in his hand. The brunette pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and threw down a few bills and looked in my eyes briefly, but it felt like a fucking lifetime, as if he was making sure I was okay before swiftly turning, pulling the guy up and ripping the blade out of his hand before dragging him out of the now silent bar. 

I blinked and exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I smoothed my shirt out, wiped my blade down, and swiped the bills from the counter, doing a double take when I counted five hundred dollar bills. I tucked them into my pocket, not trusting to leave them in the tip jar even though I would be sharing it with Chris and Alex of course. There were a lot of wrongdoers in the city.

“What the fuck? Did he leave a fucking gouge on the counter?” Chris just about screeched as he dashed over to me.

Alex came over and shoved Chris out of the way and grabbed my shoulders, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, “Yeah, actually. That guy kinda saved my ass, the Lost MC douchebag was getting out of hand.”

Chris snapped his attention back to me, “Well, as long as you’re okay. Jesus fuck, I can’t wait for people to start leaving we need to close like now.”

Just as he said that sirens started wailing in the distance, and all but five people took off running. The three of us started laughing and then broke apart to start cleaning the place up.

About three hours passed and Alex and I huddled together as Chris locked up the bar. As he was pocketing his keys, he gestured towards the lot, “Okay, I’m giving you guys a ride tonight.”

“My bike is actually here. I’ll just take it.” I shrugged.

Alex smacked my arm and hissed, “Lauren you literally were almost assaulted.”

“Well, that’s nice. I’m not leaving my bike.” I tried playing it off, though I was honestly a tad shaken up.

Chris was more lenient than Alex: “Okay, fine. Call me when you get home. Do you have your knife?”

I patted my boot, in which was my knife that he hadn’t known I’d used tonight, “Always do.”

With that, we parted ways. I turned the flashlight of my phone on and sped walked to the back lot where my Bati was parked. I quickly put on my helmet, hopped on and started her up, peeling out of the lot and waving at the couple on my way out.

While on the drive back to my apartment, I couldn't help but replay the night’s events in my head. I shook my head and leaned slightly forward, speeding through Los Santos. The cool, crisp air gave me goosebumps and I cursed my choice in clothing; red skinny jeans, black combat boots, and a white bralette.

I arrived at my destination quickly, too busy thinking the entire time. I parked the bike in the designated spot and swiped into the building, entering the elevator and riding up to my apartment. I wasted no time in getting into my apartment, locking and deadbolting the door behind me. I tossed my helmet and keys onto the kitchen counter, and then headed to my bathroom, texting Chris and Alex in our group chat as I went.

Once I messaged them, I quickly stripped and took a really half-assed shower before drying off, brushing my teeth and pulling on some underwear and a t-shirt. I turned the lights in my bedroom off and flopped onto my bed, burrowing beneath the giant comforters and wrapping my arms around one of my many pillows. 

I was so ready to sleep but found that I couldn’t. I was so painfully exhausted and yet, my mind was keeping me awake. I flipped over onto my back and threw my arm over my eyes, cursing the brown eyes that were burned into my mind.


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks had passed since the encounter, and I had all but forgotten about it. I sat in a 24 hour diner and sloshed some cold coffee around in the mug in front of me, about to leave to go hit a race. Street racing was very prominent in Los Santos, I had learned that very quickly. I just happened upon it one night. I didn’t have any friends, still don’t, really. It was a fast way to make cash, and I was getting bored with the city. 

My eyes followed a man across the diner as he stood and put his jacket on. He moved to an empty table that had yet to be cleared by the waitress, and I watched as he clumsily swiped the the tip money. I stood quickly and headed towards the cash register bumping into his shoulder on the way. 

“Oh, I'm sorry!” I acted surprised as I bumped into him, pulling the money in his jacket pocket out as I did so.

He reared back quickly and nodded before brushing past me wordlessly. I rolled my eyes and tossed the money back onto the table, before paying for my coffee.

It was about a twenty minute drive to the storm drain, a popular spot for racing, and I was greeted by a crowd of about two hundred people and a mixture of motorcycles and swooped up cars. Guys and girls stood around their favored drivers, showering them with compliments while shouting insults at anyone who disagreed with their choice and loud electronic music echoed throughout the Drain.

I hung back and watched the crowd. I felt eyes on me, but shrugged it off. No one really knew who I was, the helmet I wore was black, and covered my face completely. As I surveyed the crowd, I was unable to find anything out of the ordinary.

Quin, the MC, whistled over a mic to get everyone’s attention: “Alright, alright, you know the deal - two laps. Let’s go, bikes up.” 

I rolled forward to the starting line, revving my engine to get the crowd to part their way for me. I looked to my left and right, and nodded my head at the guy to my right who was staring me down. I looked back towards the center of the strip and watched as what I could only discern as an escort walked out in front, a bandana in her hand as he extended her arm straight into the air. She popped a bubblegum bubble with her glossy red lips, and dropped her arm. We took off.

I missed it, racing. I actually hadn’t been at it in a few weeks since I started working at the bar.I blinked as the first hairpin turn came up and slowed, using my left foot to help steady the turn. After the first turn, four were in front of me, one behind me. I waited and wove around debris as I came up behind the person in front of me. I hugged the water with my wheels and leant forward as to decrease air resistance, quickly gaining speed and passing the person in front of me. 

I liked to take my time with these races, as people always loved to see a comeback kid come out victorious. I slowed ever so slightly and hit the second turn with ease, laying into the gas and shooting forward, quickly gaining on the three still ahead of me. Cheers erupted as I overtook third place and then second and then it was just me and first as we avoided debris and wove through the overpass support pillars. I watched the other motorcyclist carefully, and I continued to speed up and slow down to mess with him, and I laughed before leaning forward once more and hitting near top speed on my Bati.

My sole opponent hit their brakes quickly as we neared the final turn and I simply let off of the gas and leaned into the hairpin. My knee barely grazed the ground and I immediately straightened out as I came out of it, speeding towards the finish.

I revved my engine and wove through the crowd, many cheered, some looked on in a mixture of disbelief and disgust that I had beaten out their friends. My gaze was fixed on three men standing a bit away from the crowd. One was sitting on the hood of their car, arm resting on their bent leg, another was leaning against the other car, arms crossed behind their neck, and the third was standing between the two cars, arms crossed over their chest.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and my head snapped to the left to see a random face of a guy who was grinning and saying words of congratulations. I cut the engine and pulled my helmet off with a small smile of thanks. I turned my head to the right and Quin winked and slapped the cash into my hands, “Damn girl, every time!”

I grinned and pocketed the money, “Find better racers, man.”

He shook his head, “Not likely with you around. I’d like to see you in a car, though.”

I laughed and pulled on my helmet, “Maybe next time, sweetie.”

With that, he made the call for the next race and I started my bike wanting to get home and get my money and myself to safety. 

I had almost made it home when I noticed that a familiar car was following me- it looked just like the one that had followed me home from the bar a few weeks back.

Instead of pulling in to the parking garage where I normally parked, I hooked a left and went down an alley. I cursed loudly when I was almost clipped by the Adder. So, they worked as a pair. I pulled a sharp U-turn in the middle of the road and went full throttle on my bike. Behind me, the growls of both supercars followed me viciously. They had gotten better at keeping up with me since the last damn time this happened. 

Before I knew it, both cars were on either side of me. The windows were tinted; I had no idea who was driving, but they were definitely skilled. I pulled my breaks and fell behind the cars, turning right while the cars ran a very red traffic light. I turned right again, and began to double back the way I came.

My heart was racing as I turned my head quickly to look behind me. Bad idea. As I turned and looked to my left, the Adder was barreling full speed down the road at me. I cut the next left, and barely missed behind completely wrecked by the Zentorno. 

I quickly looked at the window, long enough to notice that the driver rolled down their window, and locked eyes with a curly brown haired guy, mid-twenties, who was sporting a brown leather jacket and a grin. My mouth fell open as I recognized him; Michael Jones. That motherfucker.

I looked back forward to the road and cursed rather loudly as a concrete wall was approaching at an alarming speed. The Zentorno accelerated, cutting me off from going around it to the right, so I was forced to turn sharply to the left, having to skid sideways to a stop, and rubbing my left knee raw as I came face to face with the side of the Adder that had been following me previously and was now blocking my path.

I righted myself and my bike, favoring my road-burned knee and cursed under my breath. I was trapped.

~~~

The doors of the Zentorno opened simultaneously and two guys stepped out. The passenger tall, with dirty blond hair, and slim wearing a freshly pressed button down, light blue dress shirt as well as jeans and Union Jack patterned converse shoes; the driver a bit shorter with dark brown curly hair, built, sporting a brown leather jacket over a white tee, paired with jeans and skate shoes. Gavin Free and Michael Jones. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The blond said, smirking as he referenced me reaching for my gun. 

I heard a gun cock from behind me and I pressed my eyes closed and exhaled slowly, pulling my hand away from the gun. If I could play my cards right I could get out of here and go home. I stood and kicked the stand down so my bike wouldn't fall over and half limped away from it.

I growled and ripped my helmet off, pointing accusingly at the driver, "You guys are fucking stalkers!"

The passenger looked offended and shouted "Oi! Not true!"

A car door behind me shut and I spun around to see the driver of the Adder, a tall, skinny kid with glasses in tan cargo shorts, a purple hoodie and checkerboard Vans. I recognized him as Ray Narvaez Jr. He scratched the back of his head with his pink pistol, "I mean it wasn't 'stalking'."

I threw my hands up, "You motherfuckers just herded me. You know that, right?"

He shrugged and grinned, "If it makes you feel any better, you’re much harder to herd than a farm animal."

The two behind me laughed and I turned around and scowled. Michael scoffed, "Please, just because we outsmarted you doesn-"

I hurled my helmet at him and it hit him in the gut, cutting him off. I picked up where he left off, "And you! What is your deal?"

It was his turn to scowl and he tossed my helmet into his car and then he motioned towards the vehicle, "Get in, Princess."

I stepped back, "Fuck no. Answer my question!”

Gavin Free had made his way to my bike and was poking at it. 

"Hey, don't touch my bike!" I warned.

I heard whistling and I spun to see the driver of the Adder spinning his gun in his hand and he nodded towards the Zentorno. I sighed and spun to go face first into someone's chest. 

I pulled back and swung, but the brunet caught my fist and chuckled, "Get in we're on a tight schedule here and the Boss wants to formally meet you."

My eyes focused on the patch on his jacket, just over his heart; it was the notorious Fake AH Crew's emblem. This really couldn't be happening right now. 

I weighed my options: I could say no and have to deal with unknown consequences, or I could go and jump ship if shit hit the fan. 

Michael got behind me and placed his hand on my lower back and I felt his thumb graze along the hilt of the pistol as if to tell me that he knew I had it. His fingers ghosted against my bare skin while doing so and I involuntarily shivered. If he noticed didn't show, and he pressed his hand into my back, guiding me towards his car.

"Alright, we're wasting time. Come on," He stopped pushing and grabbed the keys out of my other hand and tossed them carelessly to the blond, who fumbled but had caught them nonetheless. "Gavin can drive it."

I thought about the knife that was tucked into my right boot and momentarily thought about stabbing Michael in the leg and making a run for his vehicle but hesitated as I thought back to the night at the bar and snapped back to reality as he slightly pushed me around the front of the car.

"Such a gentleman," I half-sarcastically mused as he waited for me to get in the passenger seat. He closed the door for me and briskly walked around the front of the car, said a few brief words to the other two, and then joined me in the car. 

I peered around him to see Gavin getting on my bike. He better not crash it or I swear to God he's going to have to fix it.

Michael laughed and I jumped.

"Don't worry, your bike will be fine." 

I blushed, realizing I had spoken aloud and sharply turned to look out my window.

"Okay, Ray, lead the way," Michael spoke, a grin on his face.

A radio within the car crackled and a voice replied, "Nah, man. I'll race ya."

"I'm in." Gavin's voice came through.

Michael grinned, “Let's fucking go.”


	4. Chapter 4

The three friends bantered as they raced, and I was both impressed and thankful to see that Gavin manned my bike with skill. 

I gripped the sides of the leather seats the entire drive, as Michael sped, effortlessly weaving through traffic and skillfully drifting around turns. I was terrified, but a wicked grin spread across my face, the adrenaline was unreal.

Though it was kind of fun, there was an awkward silence present between he and I the entire drive. I drummed my fingers against the leather and finally, be it my own will or just because I had recently formed a habit of speaking outwardly when I thought it was in my mind, I asked: “So, am I going to meet my Knight in Shining Armor slash completely crazy stalker formally or what?”

“Oh, shit!” Ray’s voice came over the radio and was accompanied by Gavin’s raucous laughter.

Michael scoffed, “Alright, Princess, I’m Michael Jones, at your service.”

“Gavin Free! Sorry, we can’t shake hands yet, love. Kinda busy at-” Gavin rambled. 

Ray cut him off: “Ray Narvaez Jr., at your service.”

I stifled back a laugh and tried to keep my cool. I mean, hey. I was still royally pissed off. I sighed, “Lauren Watson.”

“We know.” They all spoke in unison.

I crossed my arms over my chest, “Okay, that was creepy!”

“Can’t help that our guys are menaces at Intel, sorry, love.” Gavin joked.

“Alright, well I knew who you three are and I at least gave you the courtesy of introducing yourselves, now didn’t I - oh, Jesus fuck!” I exclaimed as Michael came within inches of slamming into a car as he drifted around a corner.

He just laughed and drove faster. 

~~~

Michael slowed and pulled into a hidden drive, Ray and Gavin following close behind. The driveway was long and wound through trees, and ultimately led up to what was nearly a mansion. Dim lights emitted from the windows, and I peered out of the window as Michael pulled into one of two garages. I unbuckled my seatbelt automatically but froze as he cut the engine and exited the vehicle. 

I was suddenly terrified. Not that I hadn’t been before, I mean I was kidnapped honestly, but the feeling had just set in. The passenger door had opened and I looked to find Michael’s hand extended outward.

I looked into his eyes and he gave a small smile of encouragement. I hesitantly reached outwards and placed my hand in his and he pulled me out of the vehicle, closing the door behind me.

“Are you just this incapable of functioning on your own or what?” He said under his breath sarcastically. I quickly ripped my hand away from his.

Ray threw his arm over my and Michael’s shoulders, “I let you win.”

Michael howled with laughter, “Sure, buddy, whatever you say.” 

Gavin cut my bike's engine.

“Bloody hell,” he grinned as he removed his helmet, “that thing's a monster!”

“Yeah, my pride and joy.” I stated, patting the seat lovingly.

A few moments passed and Ray and Gavin suddenly sprinted ahead to take the elevator, vigorously pressing the ‘door close’ button so that Michael and I had to wait.

Wordlessly, Michael placed his hand on my lower back again and guided me towards the elevator as we waited for its return. I went along with it, I had no other choice.

“So,” I started. Well, might as well say it. “That night at the bar. Why?” Before he could respond I continued: “I mean, thank you, I really appreciate it and all, but, still, I don’t understand.”

He was silent for a while as if he didn’t quite know what to say. The elevator doors opened and we stepped in simultaneously. He pressed the button. I jumped when he answered as I wasn’t expecting it:

“I was in the right place at the right time.”

His hand dropped from my skin and I braced myself as the doors opened and waited for the worst to happen.

~~~

I was surprised when the elevator doors opened, to say the least. The elevator led directly into the house. I quickly surveyed my surroundings: the room was large and inviting, with four stairs leading down to the family room to the left and a glass railing protecting from a drop off which appeared to be stairs leading downward on the right side. The wall directly to the right of me proudly displayed a ton of mugshots, one for each Fake AH Crew member, I assumed. There were five men sitting on an L-shaped couch. Their conversation hushed as Michael stepped out ahead of me. He paused and I took this as a cue to step out into the room. I took my steps carefully, and as I neared the couch, conscious of the gun that pressed against my skin. 

Michael ran to the group, grabbed onto the back of the couch with one hand and hopped over the couch, landing in the laps of Gavin and Ray who yelled at the same time about it.

The other three men stood at the same time, I recognized them as the other half of the crew: Jack Pattillo, Ryan Haywood, and Geoff Ramsey.

“Jeez, guys, way to be rude,” Jack said with a disapproving look towards the couch which housed Michael, Gavin, and Ray as he stepped towards me. I didn’t know what to do, so I stood my ground.

Geoff cleared his throat and stepped in front of Jack, “Come on in, Lauren. Make yourself at home.”

I tentatively stepped forward but kept my distance.

“This is probably a little overwhelming-” Geoff started, I cut him off.

“It's a bit weird, yes.”

He laughed, “Well, we don't have a set way of doing things. We usually fly by the seat of our pants.”

I looked over his shoulder at the three friends and then back at him, “I've gathered that much.”

“Sorry, sometimes they're a bit too much to handle.” Jack apologized for the trio.

“I told you I should have gone,” Ryan said, exasperated.

“We want her alive, Ryan,” Ray said, nailing him in the head with a pillow from the couch.

Ryan crossed his arms and scowled.

I shifted my weight and crossed my arms, slightly uncomfortable, mostly irritated at this point. 

“Listen, not to be, like, rude or anything, but I've had a long day, and I really just want to sleep or have a vodka and Red Bull, so-”

“That's Michael’s favorite bev!” Gavin chimed in.

“I'll keep it short,” Geoff spoke. “You know who we are, and we know who you are. It's not easy being solo in this city, and we could use you here. And we know you could use us. Pasts can catch up pretty quickly, these days.”

Pasts? What did he know about my past? Granted, everyone knew someone.

He continued: “Believe me, I know.”

“You know, of all people, or you know me?” I asked. I probably should learn to bite my tongue.

He shrugged, “Both if you want to look at it that way. I only work with the best of the best.”

“I'm just a pickpocket,” I said lamely. 

“Skilled racer, lockpick, and stealth specialist. Don't downplay yourself, it's the last thing you should do.” Ryan said from a different room. He reminded me of a mother trying to let her kid know they had potential.

“So is this just a part-time thing?” I asked. Way to sound stupid.

Geoff shrugged, “Do you want it to be?”

I felt that it was more of a rhetorical question so I stayed quiet. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I don't think any of us hate you,” Ray mentioned offhandedly while playing on his phone.

“How can we hate her? None of us know her, you knob!” Gavin said.

“We can change that.” Michael offered. “I mean we know where she lives, we might as well actually get to know her.”

“What?” I nearly shrieked, throwing the pillow that Ray had thrown at Ryan earlier in their general direction. “Okay, that's just weird! You guys are stalkers!”

They all dodged it, howling with laughter. 

“Creeps,” I muttered.

Jack stroked his beard with a smile, “I think you'd fit right in, Lauren.”

Geoff reached his hand toward me and smirked.

“What do you say?” He asked.

“I guess I'll give it a shot,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. We shook on it and pulled apart.

“Let's do some work,” Geoff said with a grin.


End file.
